Jarvis gave Garson a sideways glance before quickly returning his eyes to the road. Dark wavy hair, heavily lashed brown eyes, pale skin, lean but fit body, Clark Kent glasses and an unashamed pain slut—it all added up to Garson Harrisburg, Jarvis’ own personal wet dream. It was entirely possible that he was in love with the reserved, bookish and unbelievably sexy motherfucker. He just needed to get him alone and talking for long enough to know for sure, to make certain it wasn’t only the mystery that had him so entranced. Whenever Garson submitted so gorgeously to him, shed the uptight teacher and became the sensual wanton, it tightened the web Garson had already woven around Jarvis’ heart.
“We have a few late-night options on the way to my home that are good. What type of food do you enjoy?”
The tension in the car was palpable. At least on Garson’s end. Jarvis had felt like running a victory lap once he’d gotten Garson to agree to go with him.
“Whatever you’d prefer, Sir.”
“Nope. We’re not doing it that way. This is part of me getting to know you. I need an answer, boy.”
The silence stretched on. Jarvis was about to give Garson a warning when he spoke up.
“I’d like to keep it light this time of night and before we do a scene. If you know of a place that serves fresh soups or salads, I’d be fine with that.”
“I do, as it turns out. It’s one of my favorite restaurants. Do you typically eat light?”
Jarvis held back a smile. He wanted to draw Garson out of his shell but didn’t want to temper Garson’s responses by giving any indicators as to his own opinion.
“Later in the day, yes. But I don’t eat a lot of heavy foods or too many carbs. I find it tends to muddy my focus, bring my energy down.”
“Hmm. Smart. I’m similar, but I do like steak, burgers, a more protein-heavy diet.”
Garson nodded, a crease on his brow as if Jarvis had just made some grand revelation. “Yes, I imagine you would. You couldn’t support your bulk otherwise.”
Jarvis tried very hard, but the snort escaped anyway. Another sideways glance caught Garson with his hand to his forehead as if he’d taken ill.
“Forgive me, Sir. I don’t… I’m not very socially adept. I didn’t intend for that to sound so insulting. All I meant was that you’re…” Garson cleared his throat. “That you have an impressive physique, large muscles. Salad wouldn’t create that.”
“It most certainly wouldn’t. Thank you for appreciating my…physique.” Jarvis loved the way Garson spoke. It made it that much more thrilling when he could get him to fly in a scene. “And, Garson? Until we get to my dungeon, I’d prefer that we use each other’s first names.”
Look for more of Garson and Jarvis' story on Tuesday, but in the meantime, why not try out some other seductive blogs?